Disconsolate, Dejected, Depressed
by parselslyth
Summary: Harry is back at the Dursley’s for the summer after his fourth year. He is once again abused by the ‘relatives’. If you are looking for a story with a happy ending, don’t read this. Just a oneshot I think. Warnings: Child abuse, swearing.


**Disclaimer: **No, I don't own Harry Potter, surprising though that may be. JK Rowling owns the character, I'm just expanding on what she provides.

**Summary: **Harry is back at the Dursley's for the summer after his fourth year. He is once again abused by the 'relatives'. If you are looking for a story with a happy ending, don't read this. Just a one-shot I think.

**Warnings: **Child abuse, swearing.

* * *

**Disconsolate, Dejected, Despressed**

The sliding of locks brought the small, raven haired boy out of his restless sleep. Emerald eyes opened and a groan could be heard before the yelling of an angry male cut through the sleepy morning.

"Get up boy! Dudders wants his breakfast. If you don't get up I'll come in and get you up!"

Harry slowly climbed out of bed. As his feet hit the ground, he had to bite his lip to prevent himself from crying out in pain. The agony that shot up his back and whipped across his ribs caused him to drop to his knees. This proved to be a mistake. As he jarred against the hard floor, Harry hissed in pain and had to put his hands to the ground to steady himself. His slowly stood again before moving towards the bathroom, knowing his uncle would be furious if he descended the stairs wearing bloodied clothes.

After a quick wash and a change of clothes, Harry entered the kitchen and began to get the breakfast ready. His arms shook with exertion in his emaciated state and he began to feel slightly dizzy. His uncle growled angrily to him.

"Hurry up with the meal boy. And don't you _dare _even _think_ about stealing some of our food or you'll be sorry. You'll be happy with what we decide to give you."

Harry gulped hard and brought the breakfast to the table without a word of protest before looking towards the huge, beefy man for more instructions. Vernon didn't even look at his nephew as he placed a piece of paper on the table.

"Get those done by the time I am home. Dudders and Petunia will be in London for the day. Don't even _dream_ of stealing anything boy."

He said pointedly before standing up to go to work. As he neared the door, Vernon pointed to a piece of slightly burned, cold toast on the table. Harry just nodded, ate the piece of toast and picked up the list to get to work. His stomach burned like fire at being allowed the small treat after three weeks of near starvation. The green-eyed wizard went outside to begin painting the fence, calculating eight hours before his uncle returned home. He glanced down the impossible list of chores and groaned in dismay. He'd never get it all done with a week, let alone eight hours!

The heat of the day beat down on the boney frame of the teenager as he worked hard to weed the garden. Five hours had passed since his last bite to eat and he was so dizzy he had to hold the fence to prevent himself from passing out in the hot sun. His huge cast-offs from Dudley were drenched in sweat and his dark hair was plastered to his head for a change, instead of sticking up in all directions. Harry glanced at his watch and gasped at the time. There was only three hours before uncle Vernon came home and he still had to vacuum the house, clean the windows, begin cooking dinner, clean the gutters out and re-arrange the living room furniture. He stood quickly but the sudden motion caused him to fall to his knees for the second time that day. Pain licked across his ribs like fire, a few of which he was sure were broken and his head pounded. He quickly grasped the fence as his vision clouded, willing himself not to faint. With a sigh of relief his visual field cleared and he stood, albeit much more slowly.

After working in earnest for the last two hours, Harry only managed to vacuum the house and clean the gutters before heading back inside to start cooking dinner. He knew that Vernon would not be happy about the fact that the windows had not been cleaned and the living room furniture was the same as when he had left. His strength was nearly gone and his tenuous hold on consciousness was ebbing quickly, he had only risked a drink from the garden hose in favor of his uncle's wrath from stealing any food.

The lasagna was almost ready when the sound of a car polluted the silence almost an hour later. The sounds that followed were unmistakably his uncle as the man made his way into the kitchen. With one glance at the dark red face, Harry knew he was in trouble.

"Get to your room right now you worthless freak. You need a lesson. I'll teach you to disobey my orders. When I tell you to clean the windows I expect you to clean them, not laze around all day ignoring my commands!"

By this stage, Harry had retreated and was pressed against the wall in fear. He hurriedly began to ascend the stairs but nearly fainted as the quick movements caused him to feel lightheaded. He felt a strong hand grip his shoulder painfully tight and force him faster up the stairs. As soon as they reached Dudley's second bedroom, Harry was thrown against the wall. Vernon followed him and grabbed the boy by the hair and pushed his head against the wall, using his other hand to remove his belt from his huge middle.

"I'm sorry Uncle Vernon, I'll be better, I promise. Please Uncle Vernon, I'm sorry."

"Shut the fuck up boy. If you make one more sound you won't live to regret it!"

Harry gulped hard before his huge shirt was ripped off his gaunt torso. The taste of blood filled his mouth when his bit him lip to prevent the cries of agony that were threatened to be heard. The belt buckle seared against his bruised back and within seconds Harry was in a crumpled heap on the floor. His breath came in rasps and he was convulsing violently in pain and fear. The beating continued until Harry was just seconds from passing out. A harsh voice cut through the fog.

"This is only what you deserve you good-for-nothing freak."

As the words died in the silent air Harry feel to the mercy of unconsciousness.


End file.
